Possibly dangerous Pineapples
by mironokanari
Summary: What happens when juliet is taken during a high risk undercover operation? How shawn reacts may shock everyone, and permanently change their opinion of him.     **Ch 4 up**
1. Chapter 1

1989

Shawn looked around, as if to peer straight through the incredibly garish yellow and orange tie over his eyes. He really couldn't stand it when his dad treated him like he was a little kid all over again, it was so frustrating. When he finally couldn't take it anymore he burst out in an extremely frustrated, and somewhat whiney, voice.

"Oh come on dad! Where are we, why are we here, WHERE ARE WE? Why am I blindfolded? Are you going to pull a new trick like the whole hat thing? If so I will call Gus and sue you!" Shawn slammed back into his seat and crossed his arms, bringing his chin up at the same time, giving a very proud pose. Henry shook his head and half chuckled.

"Listen to yourself Shawn. You sound like a little kid still, which is why I treat you like one. If you can tell me whether or not this car is moving, I might take off your blindfold." Henry said with that tone of voice that Shawn absolutely hated. When he realized his dad was actually serious about this stupid game, he sighed loudly and angrily, and then stopped, concentrating. Shawn leaned over, pressed his face to the top of his window, which he always left cracked. Just one of the many tricks his dad had already taught him. He felt for a second, and then returned to normal with confidence.

"We aren't going anywhere dad, there isn't any air coming from the crack in the window, so we can't be moving." Shawn concluded triumphantly, and then continued, "Now can you PLEASE take off this ugly tie?" Henry frowned at Shawn reproachfully.

"Excuse, but that is one of my favorite ties! I wore it to your mom and mine's wedding." Muttered Henry, fairly indignant, and then went on to concede, "You were right anyways, that's good, using the window crack that way." Henry reached over and undid the tie, and then pulled it away, gently hanging it over the rearview mirror, exposing Shawn to the fact that they were at…

"Really dad? A firing range? Why can't I be a normal kid for once and go to a candy store for fun? I mean, when do you think the last time Gus's dad ever took him to a firing range?" Shawn frowned, disappointed, and secretly excited. Henry wasn't fooled by the front and grinned at him.

"Come on Shawn, by the time we go to dinner at that diner you like so much, you will be able to shoot a gun like a cop in the academy. And hey, is you do well I might even buy you a fudge cake. No hats this time."

**I DON'T OWN PSYCH!**

**I may want to, but I don't. This is a short chapter, and really just an intro to my own little episode, possibly to be broken into two episodes, of Psych. Hang in there, and enjoy the show!**

**Reviews are power ups for my writing ability.**


	2. Red and blue

**AN- Sadly, I don't own Psych. If I did… it would be different. Much different…**

**I do however own my little criminal in the story, Lupe Distro AKA Disaster**

Light streams in through a window somewhere as I barely crack my eyes into a semi-squint. I didn't want to open them that far even, but I had to. I had to see if I was still sane, or if last night had been real. The light streaming through the window was really bugging my eyes now, as the green letters spelling _Psych_ on the window did nothing to protect me from the sun of early morning. I sat there, half awake, on the couch, growing accustomed to the lights and immediately picked out several odd things in the room. Firstly, there by the door is a pair of low heeled black pumps, and then secondly a light grey suit jacket, a woman's suit jacket to be exact, is hanging from the back of the same chair the pumps are under. And then there is that smell… it was fruity and floral at the same time… like maybe lavender and citrus? My mind races, struggling to figure out the scent, the only unnamed player in this early morning puzzle when, suddenly, my eyes widen as I realize that the scent was indeed perfume. Not just any perfume, it's a perfume worn by my favorite cop in the world, and my semi-secret girlfriend.

I turn my head and find Juliet's head resting on my shoulder, and she looks so peaceful. I manage to shake of the early morning grogginess, and remember last night. A date, one I had hoped would end in more than just snuggling, but to no avail. Juliet was determined to avoid sexual interactions until she felt a hundred percent secure with our relationship, and it was beginning to make me worry about whether or not that would ever happen. I sigh, remembering the tension that had built up inside of me last night as Juliet leaned into me while we watched one of her favorite movies, something romantic like _'Handsome guy saving the world only because he loves the redhead part three' _or something equally ridiculous. I could handle some romances, especially Body Heat, although I'm not sure Juliet would take up my offer of popcorn and porn anytime soon. I search for the alarm clock, and find it. It's roughly 7:30, thirty minutes until Juliet has to be at work.

I raise my right arm, the one not pinned by a sexy sleeping detective, and lay it on her cheek, lightly enough to be gentle, and firm enough to wake her. Juliet jumps slightly, her left hand flying to hold mine there, so I can't run I assume, and then her right flies to where her gun usually was. Before she finds the gun not there, she realizes that it's me currently touching her face and slumps back against the couch. I chuckle and shake my head.

"Morning Sara Conner, it's time to go to work. They couldn't wait for you and your friend to come back with weapons, so the baddies are coming to you. I bet you're ready for a looooong day's work huh?" I ask, sarcastically and snidely. She raises her head off of my shoulder to give me one of many early morning glares that I've received in the months following our escapades in Canada. She dutifully gets us, clearly not wanting to go to work, and trudges over to her pumps and jacket. I get up, slowly, and then walk to the mini-fridge, and grab two of her little fruit smoothies to go meal replacement things, and come back out to her. I toss one two her after whistling at her to get her attention. She catches it and places it on the table before slipping her jacket on. I turn to the emergency closet and grab my solid dark green polo shirt, and button it up, glad I remembered the roll the sleeves up before hanging it in the _Psych emergency closet of awesome clothes_. I look around, and fail to find my cologne, which honestly pisses me off a little. I open my mouth to complain when Jules calls from the front door.

"Come on Shawn, time to leave. If you aren't out in about thirty seconds I will leave you here." She announces before closing the door behind her and going to start the car. I stand, doing a twelve take between the room and the door before jogging to the door, and out into the mild morning sunlight. Most people like sunset on the beaches the most, but not this psychic. Oh no. I much preferred the graying dawn to the fiery sunset. Something about the innocent beauty of it… I shake my head, snapping out of it, and hurry to the passenger door of Juliet's car, and slip in, closing the door as she pulls out of her parking spot. It was a short, communication less drive to the station. When we pull up and Juliet turns off the car, I jump out of the car, happy to be in the fresh air again. As she passes by me, I grab her pinky, just her pinky, and pull it up to my face, waggling my eyebrows in what's supposedly a comical manner, and gently kiss her pinky. I chuckle as I bow.

"Have a splendiferous day detective O'Hara and I wi…" Suddenly chief Vick is outside of the station, and staring at me with something resembling anxiety in her face. I look up, my head jerking back in surprise. "Morning chief," I call out, dropping the James Bond accent I had been using for Jules, "What can your favorite, and only, psychic buddy do for you today?" I grin up at her, though my grin slowly fades as her gaze doesn't leave the anxious mode. I tilt my head when she motions for me and Juliet to follow her into the station. As I walk up the steps a chill shoots down my spine, and as I reach the level top step, I twirl around and see a golden colored convertible of some sort, the chassis had been lowered, and dark red lowlights had been installed.

I caught a glimpse of the man driving. He was Hispanic, he had lighter skin but there was no mistaking it. He has a scar from the corner of his right eye to his right earlobe, and a dragon tattoo, no, it's not a dragon tattoo, its dragons, there's two of them, one red and black the other blue and white, they were Chinese style, and they were entwined. He glares at me, and I stare back, attempting to mask the immediate fear I felt, and then I watch as he drives of after smirking openly. I frown, and then turn around, and walk into the station, a feeling settling in my stomach. Today was going to be interesting, and not in a good way.

**Alrighty then, first chapter, and for better or worse, there it is. Any comments? Criticisms? Suggestions? Please, Review, it's good for the soul. Just like the wicked awesome car in this chapter. Peace out!**


	3. Professionalism? As if!

**As usual I should remind you that I do not own any part of psych, I do own senior Lupe Distro AKA blah blah blah**

I tap my foot impatiently on the brown stone floor of the Santa Barbara police department, convinced that if I had my phone next to my ear waiting for Gus to answer any longer I would get cancer. I sigh, and right as I pull my phone away from my ear, which felt like heaven with the air flowing to my ear now red from the heat of my phone's screen, I hear someone answer. Without any regard for my sobbing ear I slam it right back to the side of my head.

"Hello, this is Burton Guster, Private detective and pharmaceutical sales representative, please leave a message after the beep. Oh, if this is Shawn, I'm on vacation. And no, I won't bring you back a pineapple."

I pull the phone away from the side of my head and away from my body, raising an eyebrow. I begin to mutter.

"Won't even bring me a damn pineapple…" I snort as I hit the end button and slide the phone into my pocket. I look around the rather lightly colored station with its sandy walls and whatnot. I close my eyes and lean against the wall just outside of the chief's office, waiting for her to come and get me. Whatever this is, she is really worked up, and I've only seen her like this twice…

I shudder violently, remembering those two times, two cases I desperately wish I could forget, possibly the only cases I want to forget. Two psychopaths with names related to an ancient Chinese philosophy of balance. Mr. Yin and Mr. Yang, the two most psychotic killers in the history of Santa Barbara. Although Yang does capture the serious and the snarky sides of me equally in her compelling book…

"Shawn, get in here, the Chief wants to talk with us," Said Juliet, her head sticking out of the chief's door. I nod, and then walk quickly to the door, and as I open it my left hand flies up to my temple, and I begin shouting nonsense.

"SHANGHAI! BOW CHICKA WOW-WOOW! Oh my god chief someone let the dogs out and you need me, a certified psychic and dog whisperer to get them back!" I shout out, causing the chief to give me an exasperated half grin half grimace, and lassie, who happens to be in the corner, to glare at me. "I'm glad to see you're as sunshiny as ever lassalopolas. You remind me of the little girl from that movie about the giant ham."

"You mean charlotte's web?" Adds Jules. I shake my head and chuckle.

"Oh Jules, don't be an insane horse fly at Christmas. Of course it's not the spider one; I meant the documentary on the horrors of the meat packing ind…" It was at that moment that the chief decided to cut me off.

"Mr. Spencer I'm afraid we don't have time for obscure references and silly antics! We have received word that one Lupe 'Disaster' Distro has taken up residence here in Santa Barbara, and seeing as how no one else can catch him, and your specialty is unsolvable crimes…" My turn to cut someone off

"Oh chief, Don't worry about it, of course I can help you solve this case, a case way too high a level for lassie over there. And by the look of his sulky face I'd say he knows he needs me." I announce, giving Lassiter a snarky little grin, just to see if it might frustrate him."

"Chief! I don't need this slimy, hair gelling, womanizing freak to solve this case!" He exclaims, My jab and grin combo working perfectly. But I am offended and now I feel the need to let it be known.

"Oh lassie your being Jim Carrey in the Grinch stole Christmas, but your heart doesn't grow! I mean, come on, Slimy?"

"And womanizing?" Lassie turns to Juliet, frowning, slightly confused.

"Don't tell me you're defending this snarky little punk? You never openly defend him, are you alright? Did you eat breakfast? Are you sick?" Lassie even put on a concerned face for a second. But now he turns back to me, and then back to Juliet, he does this several times, and then lifts his chin up, as if sniffing the air. He narrows his eyes at me and then turns on his heel, mumbling something about not needing help and his partner betraying him, letting the door close behind him, he storms to the file room to get Lupe's files. I turn to the chief grinning.

"Is that it Chief? We don't have a crime scene yet but when we do… You know who to call. This reminds me, you should call us the Crimebusters! You know, when everything is hard and there aren't any clues, Who ya gonna call? Crimebusters!" I grin and give her a thumb up, hoping for a smile. I hear Juliet's half giggle behind me and turn and raise an eyebrow at her. She stops, rubbing her palms on her thighs as if to smooth herself into a more professional mood.

"Actually Mr. Spencer, there is something else I wanted to talk to you about. It's somewhat personal…" Thinking this was a hint Juliet turns to leave, and chief laughs subtly and continues, "Oh no detective, this involves you as much as Shawn. Sit." Juliet's eyes widened, and managed to be suspicious at the same time. She obediently sat in the chair next to me. I furrow my brow and then turn to frown at the chief.

"Now then, I've realized you two acting a little different around the station, especially around each other. I mean you have just suddenly started openly defending Shawn, and Shawn you've been more vehement in your defense of the detective! And then there was that time last month when you both disappeared for ten minutes in the middle of an investigation, and when you FINALLY showed back up, you were both flustered and out of breath!"

I cuss vehemently in my head as the chief reveals her investigated facts to us I mean, Of course she knows, she's the chief! I turn and grin sheepishly at Jules, who shrugs and then turns to the chief and opens her mouth to talk. I can't let her take any heat from the chief about being unprofessional about this. It wasn't right, and plus it might put a damper on lunch today. So I do what comes naturally and interrupt her.

"I'm sorry chief it was all my idea, the secretivishness, the escapade in the holding cells, which was holding cell A, by the way, and it's just all my fault. Please don't be mad at Juliet or me if you can handle it." The chief gives me one of her famous little sit down glares, which I happily acquiesce to, and sit.

"Mr. Spencer you may be the least professional person I've ever met, and sometimes it doesn't bother me as much as it should." The second time I've been slightly offended in this room.

"Chief you're being unfair to me; you're kind of like Carroll O' Conner from _In the heat of the night_." The chief snaps her head back over her shoulders and looks at me curiously.

"Excuse me? You didn't even let me finish Mr. Spencer!" The chief shakes her head as I look around, pretending I didn't know she was talking to me. "Now all I want to say is that this needs to affect your time in the line of duty as little as possible, understood? As you aren't part of the department it isn't required for me to re-locate Detective O'Hara because of this, but just remember to be careful." I beam at the chief and leap out of my chair, glad that Juliet could still stay despite the chief knowing about our relationship.

"Thank you chief, if that's all, I have some work to do before lunch." I grin and turn to walk out when the chief clears her throat. I turn back around and find her smiling oddly at me.

"Because of your relationship, I want you to learn a little bit of professionalism, so you, Mr. Spencer are going to stay here and do paperwork and actual police work with O'Hara and Lassiter until lunchtime." I groan, and then grimace at Juliet, who smiles, fairly bemused, back at me, and then walks out, gesturing for me to follow her. I am so not looking forward to REAL police work. At this point it's impossible for the day to get worse. At least I get to have time with Juliet…

**Finally! This one took me a while, and I'm not sure if it's any good. Please, Read and review, leave me a message. Reviews are like a kiss from a rose (On the grey)**

**(If you can name that song and artist you get a cookie)**


	4. Hola, Disaster

**Even though it feels like I'm writing for myself now, here it is. An attempt at another chapter. If there are lurkers out there… just review, once maybe? :/**

**A/N I don't own psych, though who knows, anything could happen. Right?**

"Oh come on Shawn, is wont be all bad. It's not like paperwork can actually kill you, although it can be slightly tedious at times." I squeaked out in my best Juliet voice, though it still just sounded like an eighth grader. "Maybe Carlton won't get onto you as much if he sees you doing real work." I continued. As if the Lassitarian would actually lay off of me for anything. In fact, now he was actually making fun of me, and there were even two times I didn't have a response! Damn that paperwork. I shook my head, realizing that Lassie was talking to me once again.

"Spencer! Wake up damnit I have a job for you. This is important, pay attention, if that's even possible for you." Lassiter spoke with a superior smirk on his face, and I supposed it was because he was the superior. I roll my eyes and then give in.

"Alright Lassie, what is it?" Lassiter grinned, and then opened his mouth to say something. But if you have learned anything by this point, it's that I A) Like interrupting people and B) Making Lassie's blood pressure as high as possible. So what do you think I did? I cut him off. "Oh, by the way. Did you know what when you smile it brings out the amazing size of your ears?" Juliet chuckled quietly, as well as some of the surrounding officers. Lassie only succeeded in a rather irked frown. Hehe, Irked. I like that word.

"Actually Spencer, I want you to interrogate a suspect in a simple grand theft auto. Go in; ask ONLY the questions I give you to ask, and nothing more. I have a history with him, and he's quite the sexist, so O'Hara might shoot him. So come on, get down there. My partner and I will be in the observation room." My face probably lit up. I was so psyched! Ahaha, pun COMPLETELY intended. I jumped up to my feet, once again marveling at how awesome my shoes were. Just right for jumping out of chairs at the good ole SBPD. I grab the folder and then give Lassie one of my semi-psychic smiles.

"Oh Lassiter, I don't need your questions, and I think you know why. I mean, how hard can this be." I shake my head, and then I throw the papers down on Lassiter's desk and then walk off towards the cells, halfway to the stairs, I can resist turning around and walking backwards with my right hand up in the psychic position. I grin as I turn around and walk down the stairs. I can hear the stomping of Lassie's paws and the rapid click of Juliet's flat pumps against the stone floor of the department.

"Spencer! Hold on Spencer, there's something else you need to know before you…" I heard nothing past that point because I had walked into the interrogation room and closed the door. God why did Lassie have to be a bigger buzz kill than when your TV crashes in the middle of Scooby doo? I shake my head, and then turn to the suspect. It was a good thing I'd already dropped those papers, because if I hadn't I would have just then. I take a deep breath, and close my eyes, because the red and blue dragon thing was going to get to me eventually. I think about it for a second, and decide to play my ace in the hole first thing off the bat. I easily slipped into Spanish, as my dad had made sure I learned it, seeing as how I was meant to be a cop in California.

"**Hola senior ****desastre****. Mi nombre es Shawn Spencer y soy un investigador de psìquico. Yo necisito hacerle algunas preguntas, Tu import de si mi siento?" (1)** The man across the table just looked at me, one eyebrow raised in extreme amusement. He shakes his head and motions for me to sit. I gladly do so and place my elbows on the table, and bring my hands, now clasped, under my chin and rest my head there. I just look at him and then smile. "I know it's you. And you know you can't be put away, not this way. But here is something you didn't know, Mr. Distro, and that is that I am better than you. I will catch you, and now that you know it, maybe this seems like a better thing to go away on, hm?" I speak with a steady and even voice the whole way through. To be honest, this dude scared the ever loving shit out of me.

"Well, senior... Spencer… I know who you are. And I know EXACTLY how good you are. One of my old friends told me, and I think you know him, or should I say, her, very well." He gives me a smirk. A smirk that sends a small shiver down my back. I tilt my head, realizing that I had to break the tension; this man was taking down my comfort zone far too easily.

"You remind me of Scarface. But I don't think he was Mexican was he? Maybe you're gonna be the next Ted Bundy, or you would be. But the second you leave a crime scene, I'll get you. And with that, I think I will take my leave Ricky Valentine."

While Shawn was speaking in Spanish, Lassiter and Juliet were having a private conversation of their own. Lassie turned to Juliet and frowned.

"Hey, O'Hara, what is there between you and the freak?" Lassie asked, pretty seriously I might add. Juliet turned her head to look at him incredulously.

"Well, Carlton, I'm not sure that that would be ANY of your business, and even if I cared to tell you I would say no. We are good friends; he's possibly amongst my best friends here in Santa Barbara. Just you and him are really my only _good_ friends now that I think about it… does work really limit my interactions outside of the department THAT much? Wow…" Juliet shook her head, in disbelief about this. Then suddenly Shawn stood up and walked for the door. When he was nearly there the convict said something, and Shawn froze stiff, and then slowly turned to look at the Hispanic. In the half second that Juliet could see his eyes, she was somewhat frightened. Shawn was angry. Angry and frightened, all at once. That alone was bad, but the fact that Shawn did nothing but glare was worse. "Carlton, go get Shawn before he attacks our suspect…"

"Gladly, I just hope he'll struggle...," Lassiter began to mutter, "Then maybe I can finally cuff his pathetic ass…" Lassiter walked quickly to the door and yanked Shawn out of there by the right forearm.

I look at the two detectives and then laugh. "Do you two know who that is?" I ask, just waiting for one of them to say that they didn't. They looked at each other and shook their heads, then looked back at me and repeated the action. I laughed again, quieter this time. "That was Ricky Valentine mis amigos!" and then begin to crack up at the incredibly stupid joke.

"Shawn! Do you really know who it was? If you do, we really need to know" Said Juliet, gripping my right wrist, and clearly fighting a giggle. Lassie of course had no humor, and was staring at me with an open mouth, as if still trying to figure out what sick circus could have produced me. I sigh and then nod.

"I'll tell you, but only because you're so pretty when you ask nicely." I wink at Juliet, and she averts her face from Carlton, hiding the smile and semi-blush. "That, my fine detectives, was none other than Lupe Distro. The most dangerous man on the west coast, and possibly the only man you have absolutely nothing on at all."

**So, there it was. Nasty right? I was having a tough time fixing on present or past tense, and I wound up with a weird as hell mixture. Anyways, here is a translation that I suppose I owe you.**

**Hello Mr. Disaster, my name is Shawn Spencer, and I am a psychic investigator. I need to ask you a few question, do you mind if I sit down?**

**Anyways, Please review, I hate feeling like I'm writing for no one but myself. Plus, Reviews often make me write faster, and even write better! Cheers!**


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